


Adulthood

by hannah_baker



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Blow Jobs, College AU, Dylan/Connor background pairing, Hand Jobs, M/M, non-hockey au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-07
Updated: 2018-07-07
Packaged: 2019-06-06 20:45:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15203126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hannah_baker/pseuds/hannah_baker
Summary: Mitch Marner finally feels like an adult the summer before his senior year of college. But apparently, he needs the assistance of his beautiful neighbor Matt to handle any actual stumbling blocks of adulthood. Thankfully, Matt is good at everything.





	Adulthood

**Author's Note:**

> Working title: Hot Neighbor Matt Martin. 
> 
> I cannot believe that there isn't more Mitch/Matt fic. I'm here to make things right in the universe. This is also my response to Matt being traded because my heart can't handle it. 
> 
> My eternal gratitude to Jillian, the other half of my fic writing brain <3 
> 
> **there is a teeny bit of blood in a non-sexy context, just in case you hate that.

Mitch Marner was feeling as confident about his life as he could that summer, with one more year left of college. He was finally out of student housing and renting a house with his best friend. He felt like adulthood was possible. What are people even complaining about? He made enough money for rent and beer, his two primary expenses, and had free time in a way he’d been missing since the summer before. College was demanding as shit. 

 

He and Dylan sat in their living room, Dylan bossing him around as he played the new God of War, because Dylan didn’t have anything better to do. 

 

“You should mow the lawn later,” Dylan said since he was already feeling bossy, his head resting on Mitch’s shoulder. Dylan’s boyfriend was across town in student housing doing summer credits, but Dylan and Mitch were both just fans of cuddling. Mitch liked the weight of Dylan’s platonic little head resting on him. 

 

“You should mow the lawn later,” Mitch argued. The house they were renting was a great deal, but they were responsible for yard work. If they didn’t do it, an extra charge would be tacked on to their rent for the month, and as adult as Mitch felt, he didn’t feel extra-twenty-five-bucks-each adult. 

 

Mitch paused his game to thumb war over it and Dylan won, leveraging his entire body weight against Mitch in the process. “Bye,” Dylan said as Mitch lost, taking the PlayStation controller out of Mitch’s hands to continue where he left off. Mitch dragged himself out to the garage to grab the lawn mower, pulled it to the edge of the yard, and cranked hard on the starter rope. 

 

Nothing. 

 

He primed the engine, pushing a little gas in there to start it out, and cranked again. 

 

Still nothing. 

 

He cranked again and again, his shoulder feeling the wear when he heard someone yelling at him. 

 

“You need help with that?” A blonde, blue-eyed angel stared back at him over the fence that separated their yard from their neighbor’s. He assumed this strong-jawed god was his neighbor. 

 

“I’d like to say ‘no’ but I think I’d be wrong,” Mitch replied. It was a little humiliating. It’s not like he’d never mowed a lawn before. He’d just never used _this_ mower before. 

 

Hot neighbor came over to help. He shook Mitch’s hand and introduced himself as Matt before taking the handle of the lawnmower in his own hands, tipping it back a little so the blades weren’t resting on the grass, and cranked the starter himself. The mower roared to life. 

 

“It couldn’t start with the blades resting against the grass,” Matt shouted, close enough for Mitch to smell how incredible he smelled, like lawn clippings and a mountain spring, or whatever body wash he used. 

 

“Duh,” Mitch said, feeling stupid. “First time mowing this lawn.” 

 

“Glad it wasn’t an engine problem. The best I would have been able to do for that is lend you my mower. How about I give you my number, so you can call if you ever need anything. You boys just moved in, right?” 

 

“Yeah, last Saturday.” Matt entered his number into Mitch’s phone and sent himself a text so he’d have Mitch’s too. Mitch just stood there, holding the two handles of the lawn mower together so it would stay running. 

  
“Welcome to the neighborhood, Mitch,” Matt shouted and headed back to his lawn to finish planting the flowers he’d been working on. Planting Flowers. That was a level of adulthood beyond what Mitch thought he’d be comfortable with.

 

He did a pretty shitty job on the lawn, using Matt’s trick to start the engine again when he had to move to the front yard. Every once in awhile, Matt would catch his eye from his spot in his own yard and send him an absolutely blinding smile, then turn back to what he was doing. 

 

Mitch was just glad that he had all of his limbs at the end of it all, with that level of distraction going. 

 

When he was done, he put the lawn mower away and walked back into his little house. “Did you know we have an actual angel living next door?”

 

“Oh, did Connor move in?” Dylan asked, a sly little smile on his face. He loved being so overtly mushy-gushy about his boyfriend that it made Mitch want to die.

 

“Go to hell,” Mitch said. “His name is Matt, and he helped me start the lawnmower, and he’s the most beautiful man I have ever seen.”

 

“Is he single?” 

 

“Didn’t quite get there while he was starting my lawnmower—”

 

“Is that a new euphemism the kids are using?” 

 

“Oh my god, Dylan William Strome go to hell. Go to actual, literal hell.” Mitch paused, a little derailed from his thoughts. “I got his number though.” 

 

“He sounds single to me. Only you would pickup while mowing the freaking lawn.” 

 

“It wasn’t a pickup thing. It was just like, a friendly neighbor thing. Seems like the kind of guy who likes to be useful.” 

 

“So the opposite of you,” Dylan said. Mitch took off his shoe and threw it at Dylan’s head, then went upstairs to shower off lawn clippings. He couldn’t believe he’d signed a lease for an entire year with that jerkoff. If their friendship wasn’t so platonic, he’d marry Dylan Strome.

 

-

 

Matt was outside a lot during the day. Dylan had gotten a job at Canadian Tire when he was sixteen, and figured he didn’t really need a new job until he graduated, so his life rotated around a retail schedule - mostly evenings. He wasn’t sure what Matt did for a living, but he now knew that he liked to mow his own lawn shirtless. Only by the grace of god (and his burgeoning maturity) did he refrain from photographing it. (Okay, he photographed it but he didn’t post it online.) (Okay, he posted it online but only on his private Snapchat and not his public Instagram. He did believe in Matt’s privacy after all.) 

 

“You spying again?” Dylan asked him, as he watched Mitch wash the same dish over and over as an excuse to look out the kitchen window and directly into Matt’s yard. He was playing with his giant Rottweiler, tugging a frisbee he never seemed to get free. His face was pure sunshine, chest bare again, tan and practically glistening. 

 

“Am I drooling?” Mitch asked, legitimately concerned.

 

“Let me just-” Dylan said, grabbing a dish towel to dab at the corners of Mitch’s mouth. Mitch shoved him away, the two of them practically on top of each other in front of the sink as the movement caught Matt’s eye. He looked up at the two of them and waved. Mitch, with much stupidity, waved back slowly. Dylan hooked his chin over Mitch’s shoulder and threw Matt a wave as well. 

 

Dylan and Matt had met the other day when Dylan was on his way inside from the garage. Had stopped to talk to Matt about his dog, Jax. Dylan said he could ‘see why Mitch would be into him,’ whatever that meant. Like Dylan wasn’t into blondes with blue eyes. 

 

He finally tossed his plate onto the drying rack and went to find something to occupy him. Something that wasn’t just perching in front of his bedroom window to continue to watch Matt play with his dog. Something...not Matt focused. 

 

-

 

Two weeks into their lease, a huge storm rolled in. Mitch liked thunderstorms. Thought they were relaxing, as long as you were inside. Plus, he was already done with his early shift by the time that it started raining, unlike Dylan who was working as a server until at least eleven. 

 

He put on some old Office reruns and shut his brain off for a little bit. He was hoping as much of his brain as possible would decay by September. He knew that made him a horrible student. Being a good student wasn’t his goal in life. 

 

He listened to the wind whip around the house, strong and a little scary. It was the first storm he’d spent in his new house, and the windows rattled a little more than he thought was strictly necessary. After an hour of relentless rainfall, he started worrying about the basement. Would it flood? Should he check? Checking would be a pretty responsible thing to do, he reasoned. And he was a responsible adult. 

 

He went downstairs to check in on it, and everything looked dry, even by the washer. The basement was unfinished so nothing would get ruined, but water inside your house was always a bad thing. 

 

On his way back up the basement stairs, he heard a giant crack and watched as part of the tree in Matt’s yard broke off abruptly, a heavy limb crashing into the roof of the garage, and taking out the power lines to his house. 

 

“Holy shit,” Mitch said as the house went dark and quiet, holding his phone up to the window to take a photo to send to Dylan, and also maybe their landlord. 

 

Just as he was composing his text, his phone buzzed in his hand. An incoming call from Matt. He answered the call. 

  
“Shit, I just saw that. Are you home? Are you okay?” Mitch wasn’t even sure how to reply.

 

“Yeah, I’m home, I’m fine,” he crossed the kitchen to see if he could see Matt in his house, and there he was, standing in his own kitchen window. He waved when he caught sight of Mitch. “That was fucking scary.” 

 

“I should probably be calling your landlord, but I just wanted to check in with you first. How’s Dylan?” 

 

“At work,” Mitch said, surprised that he’d remembered Dylan’s name.

 

“Your house is completely dark. Come over. You two can stay the night.” Mitch had been hoping for an invitation out of nowhere like this from Matt — just because that’s what you fantasize about when you crush on your neighbor. However, he never expected that Dylan would be invited along. It soured a perfectly magical moment a bit. Still, it would be hours until Dylan got home, and honestly, he’d probably just stay at Connor’s, like he did when they actually had power to begin with. 

 

“That’s super generous,” Mitch said, “are you sure?” He was too Canadian to just accept the offer. 

 

“I’m not letting you stay there when your power is out. Do you like dogs?” 

 

Mitch gathered up some overnight stuff in his backpack, grabbed a few beers from his fridge, and headed over under the only umbrella he could find in their house. It was still pouring out, and he arrived barely forty feet from his own front door already fairly damp. Matt was on the phone with Mitch’s landlord, who of course Matt had a great relationship with. He seemed like the kind of guy everyone liked. 

 

Mitch just hung out with Matt’s dog for a while, his hoodie and shoes drying by a heat vent by the door. He texted Dylan his great fortune, and Dylan confirmed that he’d stay with Connor. It was closer to the restaurant anyway, and well, any excuse was a good excuse for the two of them. 

 

When Matt hung up, he relayed some details from his landlord. That he’d hire a tree removal crew but it might take some time to get the power back up and running. Mitch thought that sounded like a giant pain in the ass. “You can stay as long as you need,” Matt said, tossing a blanket out of a linen closet for Mitch. “You hungry? I was just putting some salmon in the oven. I can toss another one in for you. They’re just frozen.” 

 

“Um, yeah, that would be awesome,” Mitch said, curling up in a blanket that was gigantic and soft. Matt cooked salmon, just like, casually. Mitch could barely microwave. Matt put the fish in the oven, and food in Jax’s bowl, and sat down next to him on the couch. 

 

“You wanna watch a movie? TV?” 

 

“You’re being too accommodating,” Mitch argued. “What were you doing before I got here?” 

 

“Just getting some work done.” He indicated the laptop on the coffee table. “I’m a web designer. I like to work nights, mostly.” 

 

“That’s why you’re in your yard all the time,” Mitch said, and immediately regretted it. “Not that like, I notice or anything, I just noticed that—”

 

“Yeah,” Matt said, laughing, loose and easy. “That’s why I’m in my yard a lot during the day. I like summer. Not enough of it in Canada.”

 

“But winter means hockey,” Mitch said. He felt aligned properly with the universe when the Leafs were playing, a little off-kilter on the off-season. 

 

“A good argument. Hey, when is your boyfriend off work? Should I have put an extra fish in the oven for him?” 

 

“My boyfriend?” Mitch asked stupidly. He always felt a little stupid around Matt. 

 

“Dylan,” Matt said, like it was so clearly obvious to the world and everyone in it that Dylan was Mitch’s boyfriend. 

 

“Oh, ew, no,” Mitch said. Matt thought Dylan was his boyfriend? Gross. “I don’t mean like, _ew_ , ew, but like, just ew. Dylan is not my boyfriend. I love him platonically forever but gross. No.” 

 

Matt laughed at him. What a fucking laugh, deep and clear, like he was fluent in laughter. Like he invented it. “My mistake. You guys are just kind of handsy with each other. I’ve seen you literally holding hands, I swear.” 

 

“I don’t have a boyfriend. Dylan is practically married to his high school sweetheart. He’s staying at Connor’s tonight actually, so no fish for him. We are just touchy I guess?” He phrased it like a question. “I just like to cuddle?” As soon as he said it, he wanted to take it back. 

 

“Alright, no judgment here,” Matt said, something in his eyes darkening a bit, the corner of his mouth turning up. Mitch wanted to read something into that, but wouldn’t let himself. “Mind if I get another twenty minutes or so in before dinner’s done?” He tapped the back of his closed laptop. 

 

“Yeah, for sure, obviously,” Mitch stammered. Matt gave him the remote and let him choose something on Netflix. He put The Office back on. If Matt didn’t like The Office, he didn’t want anything to do with him. 

 

“Nice choice,” Matt said, clacking at the keyboard of his computer. The universe was giving so much to him. He peeked over at Matt’s computer screen. Mitch had taken a web design class his sophomore year and learned enough to know he was too dumb to design websites. 

 

He slyly watched as Matt worked, movements and decisions so confident as he poked around the WordPress site he had open, adding copy and images to a theme Mitch didn’t know anything about. He’d basically been scared off of WordPress by his web design teacher. He told Matt as much because he didn’t know how to keep his mouth shut. 

 

He got another one of Matt’s smiles, the concentration lines in his forehead disappearing. “Yeah, it can be a pain in the ass,” Matt agreed. “Sometimes I get in over my head. For the most part, it’s not awful. Everyone has a WordPress so you have to figure it out to get work. Are you guys still in college? I know Mike rents to a lot of students.”

 

“Yeah, seniors next year.”

 

“What are you studying?”

 

“Business. Dylan’s in engineering but I don’t have the math brain for it. Business is boring but hopefully I’ll get a job.” 

 

The timer on the fish dinged, and Mitch was glad to not have to talk about school anymore, as Matt plated up fish and potatoes and asparagus for Mitch, brought it over to the dining room table. 

 

“This is some grown-up shit. This is just what you make? For food?” 

 

“Yeah,” Matt shrugged. “The fish was pre-seasoned. Don’t get too impressed. Water? Or I guess I have some wine?” 

 

“I brought some beers in my backpack,” Mitch said. Jesus, he kept sounding not one day over fourteen. 

 

“Let’s save them for after. Not great with salmon. I have an open bottle of red that would go well.” 

 

“The last wine I drank came in a box,” Mitch admitted. 

 

“Let’s fix that.” 

 

Matt poured wine, and Mitch tried to remember to act like a grown up and chew with his mouth closed. He had bad manners around Dylan to annoy him, and he didn’t want Matt to think he was an animal. At least Matt didn’t try to make him talk about the wine. 

 

Every once in a while Mitch would forlornly glance over at his house, dark and dead. “I know this sucks,” Matt said, “not being able to be in your own home. But I have a futon in my office that’s honestly pretty comfortable, and I make good pancakes.” 

 

“You’re like, too nice,” Mitch said, scooping up the last of his mashed potatoes on his fork. “I’m sure you weren’t planning on having some kid ambush your house.” 

 

“You’re not some kid. You’re my neighbor. Who is pretty cool, actually.” 

 

Matt. _Hot Matt._ Thought he was cool. Well, “pretty cool,” but Mitch would take it. He couldn’t help the blush that rose on his cheeks but he hated it nonetheless. “You’re cool too. This is really cool of you. I’m not sure what else I would have done. Sat in my dark house I guess.” 

 

“Well I can provide you with electricity, and a bed, and a dog who wants to lick your plate.” Matt set his own empty plate on the ground, and Mitch copied him, bringing it back into the kitchen after Jax got what he could from it. 

 

They ended up back on the couch, the thunderstorm darkening the skies so much Mitch had no idea what time it was. Matt flipped The Office back on, and Mitch cuddled Jax and curled up under the blanket that he was thinking of as his. Just as he started slipping into sleep, Matt nudged his shoulder. 

 

“Hey, let’s get you to bed,” he said, The Office still on in the background. Matt led Mitch upstairs to his office, where he had already made up the futon. He must have done that when Mitch had been on the edge of sleep. 

 

“There’s an outlet by the lamp for your phone charger,” Matt said, dropping Mitch’s backpack down on the floor by the futon. Mitch was so out of it he didn’t even think about his backpack. “Guest bathroom is right next door. I’m at the end of the hall if you need anything, okay?” He tipped Mitch’s jaw up with one finger so Mitch would meet his eyes. 

 

“Okay,” Mitch agreed, not able to form any more detailed thoughts with Matt touching him. 

 

“Good. Sleep tight,” he said and closed the door to the office behind him. 

 

He texted Dylan before bed. _Power’s still out. Sleeping in Matt’s office tonight. I’ll keep you updated. You get to Connor’s safe?_ He really hated being such a good friend. 

 

Dylan just sent him back a photo of Connor, shirtless, hair messed up, lips well kissed, hickeys on his collarbone. At least he had the decency to look away from the camera. 

 

Mitch deleted it immediately. _Please never come home._

 

_That can be arranged._ Dylan sent back. 

 

Mitch turned his phone off. 

 

-

 

Matt’s promised pancakes the next morning were fucking delicious. Matt even scrambled an egg for his dog, because Mitch figured he was _that_ kind of dog owner. But it was okay. Jax deserved it. 

 

After breakfast, they assessed the tree situation. There didn’t look to be any damage to the roof, but the power lines were beyond anything they could do. 

 

“I wish I had a chainsaw,” Matt said, looking to be appraising the branch on Mitch’s garage with laser focus. Mitch never, even for a split second, would have thought about doing something about this situation himself. His landlord would call a tree guy. 

 

“Mike will call a tree guy,” Mitch said. 

 

“Yeah, but they’re going to be busy for the next few days,” Matt said, walking around the area the tree fell on. “Wanna go buy a chainsaw with me?”

 

“I work at Canadian Tire. I could get you my discount,” Mitch said. Matt’s face brightened. 

 

“That sounds amazing.” 

 

Forty minutes later Matt was chainsawing the branch that had fallen on the garage into sticks, as Mitch hauled them away into a pile. He had the day off, and he’d been looking forward to doing literally nothing, but Matt’s arm muscles were on display, and he had an excuse to keep his eyes trained on them, so there was only so much that he could complain about there. 

 

It took almost three hours between the two of them, but they were finally able to tell for sure that the garage was fine. The broken branch was stacked nicely against the fence. He felt proud of himself, more accomplished than he’d anticipated out of the entire summer. Mitch sent photos to his landlord and to Dylan, who he was a bit afraid to get a response from. 

 

“Alright,” Matt said, dusting his hands off. “Let’s go take some showers and eat something.” 

 

He put his new chainsaw away in his own garage lovingly, all of his yard work tools and machines in neat order. Mitch thought about the sad lawn mower in the corner of his own garage.

 

Matt’s house was so nice. Mitch could tell he liked working on it. When he called out the tile in the bathroom (black and white hex tiles) Matt said he’d done it himself. He came out of the guest bathroom shower feeling cleaner than he had in a while, the hot summer sun caking his sweat to his body. 

 

When he finally came downstairs, Matt was in the kitchen chopping up some vegetables, shirtless. 

 

Mitch was speechless. Matt’s hair was still wet from his shower, and he could see his muscles in his chest flex as he chopped. It was obscene. He couldn’t look away. 

 

When Mitch snapped to it, he realized Matt had watched him completely drink him in. He had a bit of a smirk on his face. Shit. 

 

“I figured we could do salads. I have vegetables from the garden and grilled chicken from yesterday.” 

 

Mitch could barely put together a single coherent thought. “You grow food in your garden?” 

 

“I grow a lot of things. As long as Jax doesn’t dig them up.” 

 

Mitch laughed way too loud for Matt’s joke. “Salads sound great,” he said, strained. 

 

They ate on Matt’s back deck, a small platform off the dining room, as Matt pointed out what was growing around them. He had a small yard, but the whole yard was lined with plants. There was so much green it was overwhelming. 

 

“I always liked nature as a kid but never liked camping. I really like running water and electricity. This though — having it all here, right next to my house — I like that.”

 

“I’m a city kid myself,” Mitch said. He put his salad bowl down. Matt had even made the dressing in a food processor with a whole avocado and it was so good Mitch wanted it drizzled over his coffin when he died. 

 

“If you ever want gardening tips, you know where to come.” 

 

Mitch restrained himself from muttering that that wasn’t the tip he wanted, but tried to remember his joke to text Dylan later. 

 

“You need to work?” Mitch asked, remembering that Matt usually worked later in the day. 

 

“I’m taking the day off. I do have about an hour of stuff to do to hold me over, but I’m overdue for one.” 

 

“Plus you just chopped up a tree.” 

 

“I did,” Matt said, kicking his legs up on the deck chair across from him, his shorts showing off basically every muscle in his legs. He caught Mitch staring at him immediately. 

 

“I’m sorry,” Mitch stammered. He didn’t know how many times he could be caught blatantly ogling Matt without repercussions or consequences. 

 

“Don’t apologize,” Matt said, his voice deep enough to rumble through Mitch’s chest. He looked like he liked it. Mitch didn’t know what to do about that. 

 

After lunch, Matt took Jax on a walk, and Mitch’s landlord Mike came over to assess the damage. He was grateful that he and Matt had cut up the tree, but did note that because it was Matt’s tree that fell, he was the one avoiding the tree removal fee. He still needed someone to haul away the wood. He told Mitch the city was hoping to get out the next day to fix the powerlines, and left. 

 

Mitch got the feeling that Mike was vaguely disappointed in him, but he thought that was maybe Mike’s personality. 

 

He wasn’t sure if he should go back into Matt’s empty house or not, so he decided to go see Dylan at work instead. 

 

Dylan worked at a franchised bar and grill that had no discernible personality. He caught Dylan’s eye when he walked in and Dylan intercepted the host to seat him himself. At a table that already had Connor McDavid and a pile of textbooks on it. 

 

“Want a beer?” Dylan asked. Connor already had one by where he was studying. 

 

“Is it free?” 

 

“Nothing here is free for you.” 

 

Mitch shrugged. “Yeah, the cheapest one you have.” He looked across the table at Connor. Mitch loved Connor but he didn’t always know what to do with him if Dylan wasn’t around. 

 

“Dyl said you’re having a sleepover with your neighbor crush.” 

 

“Dylan is correct,” Mitch said carefully. 

 

“I’ll keep Dylan out of your hair for you,” he said, a filthy grin on his face. 

 

“You know, I have figured out that the two of you have sex. It’s not like, a shock to me.” 

 

Connor just shrugged and said, “all night long,” like Dylan was there paying him to annoy Mitch. Maybe that’s why they liked each other so much. Common plotting. 

 

“Okay, loverboy. So I think maybe Matt is lightly flirting with me and I’m not sure what to do about it.” 

 

“And you’re asking me for advice?” 

 

“You’re the only one sitting here, apparently.” 

 

“Okay, well take into account that the last time I kissed a boy for the first time or went on a first date I was sixteen.” 

 

“You’re right, you’re useless.” 

 

“Maybe just test the waters?” 

 

Mitch was interested. “What do you mean?” 

 

“Touch his shoulder, lean into his space. Flirt back.” 

 

Dylan showed up to drop his beer off. “Did you want food?” 

 

“He came for boy advice,” Connor said, ratting him out. 

 

“Just climb into his bed tonight,” Dylan said. “I don’t see what the problem is.” 

 

“You guys are the fucking worst.” 

 

Dylan leaned down to kiss Connor’s stupid smug face before walking away to check in on his real tables. Mitch hated his friends. 

 

—

 

He stopped at the grocery store on the way back, deciding that he would be the one to cook Matt dinner himself tonight. He didn’t have cooking chops, but he could make pasta. 

 

He got pasta and sauce and the kind of garlic bread that was frozen and you just had to throw into the oven. He grabbed some chicken breasts for protein and headed out. 

 

He knocked on Matt’s front door when he got back, walking all the way around to the front of the house. “You can just come in,” Matt said when he and Jax answered the door. 

 

“I’ll probably knock forever just so you know,” he said. Matt smiled at him. “I got stuff to make you dinner since you keep feeding me.” 

 

“Are you serious? That’s incredible. Please feed me.” Matt’s smile was big and wide, his blue eyes sparkling. He was so classically handsome like someone picked him out of a catalog. So Canadian and _nice._ Mitch was apparently into nice. 

 

Mitch got his stuff set up in the kitchen, and Matt helped him find the pots and pans he’d need. Then he sat up at the breakfast bar with his computer, getting the stuff he needed to get done in order to have a “day off” done. Mitch felt a little self-conscious as he cooked, not fully comfortable with the processes in general, or the tools, or the space. But mostly, even though he could hear Matt typing on his computer, even though he basically knew Matt wasn’t paying that close of attention to him, he still felt watched. Watched by someone who gave Mitch the stomach butterflies. 

 

He drained the pasta and mixed in the sauce. There were a handful of minutes left on the garlic bread still, and chicken to chop up. He had Matt’s big chef’s knife in his hands, heavy and about a thousand times sharper than the shitty knives he and Dylan had bought on Craigslist, but he’d enjoyed using Matt’s nice cookware throughout the dinner making experience. A symbol of how different Matt's real adulthood was from Mitch's pretend, baby adulthood. 

 

His hands shook as he chopped, his lack of confidence and performance anxiety bubbling up together. When he heard Matt’s computer shut suddenly, he jumped, losing control of the knife in his hand and slicing into his finger accidentally. “Shit shit shit,” he said, jumping back from the cutting board and dropping the knife. 

 

Blood pooled up in the cut and spilled over, and he stood for a split second just staring at his finger, not knowing what to do. 

 

“Hey hey,” Matt said, at his side in an instant. He picked up the knife and put it in the sink, grabbing a handful of paper towels on his way. He took Mitch’s hand and pressed the towels into the cut to stop the bleeding. “You’re okay,” he told Mitch, his fingers gently touching Mitch’s jaw. He looked up into Matt’s blue eyes, calm and steady in the face of injury. 

 

“I really hate blood,” Mitch said. He hadn’t moved a muscle. His brain couldn’t think of what the next step was. 

 

“It’s okay, I got you,” Matt said. He guided Mitch over to a clear spot on the counter by the sink, and, with two big hands on Mitch’s waist, helped him hop up to sit on the countertop. He was finally eye level with Matt for the first time. From under the sink, Matt produced a first aid kit. Mitch realized he didn’t even have a first aid kit in his entire house. 

 

Matt kept up a stream of gentling comments, narrating the steps he was taking and letting Mitch know that he would be fine. The cut was shallow and wouldn’t need stitches. After a few minutes, Mitch was cleaned up, a bandage on his finger covering up the cut. Matt pressed on it, keeping pressure on the wound. 

 

“See? All better,” Matt said. Mitch was still feeling a little light headed. The hand that wasn’t applying pressure to Mitch’s wound came up to cup Mitch’s cheek, a light, gentle touch that made Mitch melt. If he’d been in his right mind he probably would have stopped himself, but Matt was so close to him and was being so nice to him. His hand was on Mitch’s face already, and all Mitch had to do to kiss him was to lean forward. 

 

Matt greeted the kiss with a soft hum, content. He dropped the hand that had been on Mitch’s cheek to wrap around his waist, pulling him closer. Mitch felt a wave of relief. If Matt had pushed him away, he’d have ruined dinner _and_ would have to go back to a dark house - or worse, stay at Connor’s. 

 

But Matt was content to kiss him for long, slow minutes, keeping even pressure on his cut the whole time. Mitch felt safe in Matt’s presence. Matt knew what he was doing. He knew how to start a lawnmower and chainsaw down a tree and plant a garden and fix a cut. He knew how to kiss. 

 

They finally broke apart when the timer for the bread went off. Matt pulled away just enough to tell Mitch to stay put, pressed one more kiss to his lips, then took the bread out of the oven. 

 

He inspected the chicken, which had gotten away unscathed by Mitch’s blood, and he grabbed a new knife to finish chopping it up. He served up the pasta and the chicken and put big hunks of bread on both of their plates before setting them down at the breakfast bar. Then he came back for Mitch. 

 

“Careful,” he said, holding onto Mitch’s good hand as he hopped down. He was twenty-one years old. He didn’t need someone helping him off the counter. But he was a little light headed still once he was on his own two feet, and Matt steadied him, staying in his space for longer than was really necessary. “Dinner looks amazing, by the way.” 

 

“I can’t believe I fucked up pasta,” Mitch said.

 

“You didn’t fuck up anything. It looks beautiful. I just startled you. I’m so sorry about that.” Matt’s hand was warm on Mitch’s lower back, and he was just trying to figure out what to do to keep it there. 

 

“Thank you for fixing me.” 

 

“My pleasure,” Matt replied, his regular bright smile a little sleepier, a little sexier.

 

They ate at the breakfast bar, Jax both worried and hopeful at their feet. He got a text from Dylan that said he was spending another night at Connor’s. He did not respond. He didn’t want to encourage anything. 

 

Matt took their plates when they were done, and Mitch wasn’t sure what to do with himself. 

  
“It’s weird not working at this time,” Matt said, reaching out for Mitch’s hand. "But nice." Mitch gave it to him, let Matt pull him out of his chair and into the living room. Matt sat down on the couch and pulled Mitch after him, settling Mitch against him, a heavy arm around his shoulders.

 

Matt flipped his TV on and pulled up Netflix, hovering on the main page, not even scrolling for ideas. “Should we talk about this?” 

 

“Do you think I need a tetanus shot?” Mitch asked.

 

“That’s not what I wanted to talk about, and no, I don’t think so,” he said, laughing. He kissed Mitch on the forehead. “I meant this. Me kissing you. Are you okay with that? Are you uncomfortable? I don’t want you to feel pressured into anything.” 

 

“I feel the opposite of pressured. Dylan calls you my neighbor crush if that gives you any insight into this situation.” His cheeks burned admitting that.

 

“I like that.” Matt chuckled again. “I like you.” 

 

“Why?” Mitch asked, without thinking his statement through. He needed to start thinking more thoroughly before he spoke. 

 

“You’re sweet, and you’re funny, and you always have a smile on your face, even when a tree takes out your power. You make good pasta. You like my dog. You are _very_ cute.” 

 

“Oh,” was all Mitch could say. Matt nudged his chin a bit to get a bit better of an angle and held his face gently as he kissed him again. Having Matt’s hands on him in any capacity was enough to short out his entire brain, and all he could think of was the feeling of Matt’s lips on his, Matt’s hands on his face, Matt, gently coaxing him onto his back. Matt over him, stroking his cheek so gently before kissing him again. 

 

Matt was just so big it was overwhelming. Mitch was very, very into it. His broad shoulders, his giant hands. Matt had thirty pounds on him easy. Mitch wasn’t a damsel, but the idea of being with someone bigger than him appealed to him in a number of ways. 

 

Mitch had no handle on the time that passed as they made out, but eventually, Matt pulled back. “Let’s take a little break,” he said, shutting his eyes a bit, as though he was trying to get some control over himself back. Mitch needed to regain his own control. Matt manhandled him a bit in order to spoon up behind him on the couch, and finally, they chose something to watch on Netflix. 

 

Mitch had no idea what they were watching. Matt kept kissing the back of his neck or nuzzling into his hairline. It was the most distracting thing that could be happening to him. “How does that cut feel?” Matt asked, finally breaking through the tension that had been building in the room in their silence. Mitch had totally forgotten about his finger, but as his thoughts returned to it, he could feel it throb. 

 

“It’s okay,” he said. 

 

“I’m glad. I can get you an ice pack or something if you’d like.” Mitch was grateful for the offer but would kill a man to keep Matt curled up behind him. 

 

“I’d rather just stay right here, like this,” he said. It earned him another kiss behind his ear. 

 

“We can do that too,” he whispered. When Matt whispered, it came out thick and heady, gravely and low. Mitch had basically the opposite of a low voice but loved feeling Matt’s voice vibrate through his whole chest when they were pressed so closely together like this. 

 

They watched TV idly through the evening, hopping around, never really settling on anything. As the night wore on, Mitch felt so warm and happy he was almost floaty. “Is it time for bed?” Matt asked him. 

 

“Probably,” Mitch said, realizing that he probably just fucked himself out of the amazingness of their couch cuddling. The futon had been fine the night before, but Mitch really, really didn’t want to. 

 

“You can say no to this, obviously, I mean, you’re more than welcome to sleep on the futon again, but if you wanted to—” 

 

“Yes,” Mitch said. “No futon, yes whatever else you were saying.” 

 

“You want to sleep in my bed?” Mitch thought no seven words were ever as beautiful as those.

 

“Yes.” 

 

Matt breathed out a little laugh, and detangled them from each other and the couch blankets. Matt had amazing air conditioning, and Mitch was very grateful for it. Matt let Jax out once more for the night, and they headed upstairs. Mitch put on his pajamas and brushed his teeth, and when he pushed Matt’s bedroom door open, Matt was already in bed, shirtless again, leaning against his headboard. He put his phone down on the night table and flicked his lamp on. 

 

“Hey, beautiful,” he said. Mitch wasn’t sure if he was getting the ‘beautiful’ from the old Leafs shirt or the holes in his plaid pajamas, but he blushed anyway. Matt looked like such a _man_ , and Mitch felt like a little kid, but Matt got up from his bed to kiss Mitch, toothpastey and clean, both his hands on Mitch’s skinny hips, and Mitch stopped caring completely about how goofy or young he felt. Matt got a sly little smile on his face and tugged Mitch’s t-shirt off of him. 

 

Mitch didn’t have time to feel self-conscious before Matt picked him up under his butt and held onto him for a moment, Mitch’s hands coming up to steady himself on Matt’s shoulders, his legs wrapping around Matt’s waist. Had he ever been with someone who could pick him up like this? No. He hadn’t. And it was fucking hot. 

 

Kissing Matt at that angle, even though Matt was supporting his entire body weight, felt powerful. Matt could drop him at any time, but Mitch was in control of their kiss, and that felt like where more of the power was. 

 

Until Matt tossed him onto the bed and followed after, pressing Mitch back into his clean sheets. Mitch felt whatever power he’d had poof into thin air, but he liked this too, Matt’s body eclipsing everything else. He wouldn’t admit it to Dylan, but he liked this better, felt himself get hard as Matt’s eyes raked over him like he was dessert. 

 

“What do you feel comfortable with?” Matt asked, leaning down to nip at Mitch’s jaw. Mith wasn’t used to having these kinds of conversations during sex. He usually just showed up and participated in whatever happened and felt pretty good about it afterward, throwing up boundaries as he went if necessary. Did adults actually talk about things?

 

He didn’t have a very good sex vocabulary unless he was applying it to crude jokes or making fun of Connor and Dylan. “Uhhhh,” he spit out, hoping some kind of coherent thought would follow it. It didn’t.

 

Matt wasn’t was unfazed. “What if I blew you? Are you okay with that?” 

 

“Yes,” Mitch said, able to form that thought at least. 

 

“Alright, good,” Matt said. His eyes were dark as he looked at Mitch, almost drunk off of Mitch in his bed. Mitch had been with enough people to know that sometimes your bed partner was really into you, and sometimes they kind of wanted to get it over with and get their orgasm. Matt was the former, his hands and lips exploring down Mitch’s neck, down his chest.

 

Matt’s hair was already a little crazy from where Mitch had his fingers tangled into it, and when Matt finally made it to the elastic of his pajamas he looked back up at him, kissed lips, dark eyes, wild hair. “Still good?” he asked, always concerned about Mitch in some way. Mitch liked it. Liked being taken care of. He nodded. 

 

Matt slipped his pajamas off under his butt, then carefully over his erection. “Let’s get you more comfortable,” Matt said. They were sideways across the bed, and Matt helped adjust Mitch on his king-sized bed so he was right in the middle, leaning against at least eight pillows, head propped up enough so that he would have no problem keeping his eyes focused on what Matt was doing. 

 

“Ready?” Matt asked. 

 

“Yes yes yes,” Mitch said, earning him another smile. 

 

Matt hunkered down between Mitch’s spread legs and kissed up the inside of his thigh. Mitch had been on the receiving end of many sloppy, unfussy blowjobs, but this one was already different. Matt reached up to grab one of Mitch’s hands and kissed the underside of his dick. Mitch gave Matt’s hand a squeeze. It felt romantic. It felt like Matt was doing something other than waiting his turn for his own blowjob. 

 

Matt finally took him in his mouth, and Mitch almost blacked out. Strong, older, capable Matt was good at many things, blowjobs included. Not only did it feel incredible as he worked up and down Mitch’s dick, but it looked incredible, watching himself disappear into Matt’s mouth. 

 

Matt kept his gaze on Mitch, keeping an eye on how Mitch was doing. Mitch just gripped Matt’s hand and made a bunch of stupid sounds that he could tell Matt was very into if the number of times he had to adjust himself in his own underwear was any indication. 

 

Somehow he was either lucid enough or polite enough to warn Matt when he was close, and Matt pulled off to finish him with his hand, huge and rough from yard work. His hands felt so good on him he almost regretted the blowjob, but one look at Matt’s mouth convinced him otherwise. 

 

Mitch was sticky and sleepy and happy, and Matt was looking down at him with a certain fondness in his eyes. He dipped down to kiss Mitch’s neck and up behind his ear before getting out of bed and heading to his ensuite, coming back with a towel, only slightly damp and nicely warm to clean Mitch’s tummy up with. 

 

“You are good at everything,” Mitch said lazily. 

 

“That’s a nice review,” Matt said. “Seemed like you enjoyed yourself.” 

 

“That’s correct.” He took a look at Matt’s dick, straining through his underwear, wet spot showing through, and coordinated himself enough to get up on his knees like Matt was. He was still pretty short compared to Matt, but that didn’t mean any trouble for getting Matt’s underwear down. His dick was heavy and warm in his hand, and Matt’s arms came around him to hold him close as Mitch jerked him off with his good hand.

 

Mitch tipped his head up to kiss Matt, and Matt’s hands found his ass, which he was very interested in, running his hands over the tops of his thighs, up the curve of his ass, to his lower back, and back down. 

 

“Do you want,” Mitch started asking him, ready to offer his own mouth to Matt. Matt shook his head. 

 

“Keep doing what you’re doing. Tighten your grip a little,” he said. He tipped his head back, and Mitch focused on his collarbone, a little easier to access from his height. When Matt’s breath started getting ragged, he sped up. Matt gasped and said Mitch’s name when he came, and it took Mitch’s breath away a little bit. He wasn’t done convincing himself that Matt wanted him, but the last twenty minutes of his life were pretty good evidence. 

 

He fumbled through cleaning Matt up, and Matt took over. He got up to toss the towel into his laundry and put on a clean pair of underwear. When he got back in bed, he and Mitch tossed some extra pillows onto the floor, and Matt pulled Mitch to cuddle on his chest, his hands coming back down to Mitch’s still bare ass. 

 

“What are your plans for tomorrow?” Matt asked him, as he flicked off the lamp. They were lit just by the glow of the moon, and Mitch felt happy, and sated, and safe. 

 

“Work in the evening.” 

 

“Stay with me until your shift?” Matt asked.

 

“Duh,” Mitch said, dizzy with contentedness. If this was adulthood, sign him the fuck up. 

 

\--

 

Late the next morning after they had slept in, he cursed when he looked out Matt’s bedroom window to see the city repairing his power lines. 

**Author's Note:**

> I hate the offseason. 
> 
> Find me on tumblr if you're into that kind of thing. I'm thewestishharpooners and I guess I still have hockey feelings.


End file.
